Only Human
by The TO
Summary: When family is all you have left, you would do anything and go to any lengths to protect them.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: A one shot idea I had after watching the BL3 streams today.

Every day it got harder and harder. Keeping Troy alive. Keeping the bandits in line. Keeping up my cult leader persona. The times where I just wanted to say 'fuck it' and go off on my own were coming more frequently. But he needed me. Which meant that I needed the bandits, both as bodies to throw against those who would do us harm and as a source of life for us. Lately, it took more and more energy to keep my brother alive. More and more sacrifices to the 'magnificent God-Queen Tyreen Calypso'.

I sighed and chugged the last of a bottle of water. Troy was outside hyping up the 'fans' as we had taken to calling them. You could paint shit pink and it was still shit. They were lunatics, murderers, and in some cases just plain sadistic assholes. It was maddening some days. One guy actually sent in human torsos. Totally disgusting. The things that some of these bandits did made that look tame by comparison. It almost made me regret coming here. Regret my connection to Troy. He had fallen into the role of tyrannical leader all too easily. Some days it seemed like he was born for it. Some days I wished that he'd just died after they cut him off of me.

The regret that that line of thinking always caused seemed a little easier to bear today. We had recently acquired the Pandoran Vault Key. Info that we'd salvaged from that Hyperion wreck said that it doubled as a map for all the vaults in the galaxy. In one of those vaults was the key to something called the Great Vault, which is supposedly where the Eridian civilization still existed to this day. At least according to speculation done by Hyperion. Hopefully there we could find a cure for Troy's condition. It was probably the longest shot that anyone had ever taken, but I still had to do it. For Troy.

The bottle crumpled in my grip and I tossed it away to join its fellows in the corner. My power made it so that eating was a matter of opulence and not necessity. Keeping hydrated, especially under the unforgiving Pandoran sun, was always an issue. The bandits seemed to practically survive on bloodshed alone. I hadn't once seen them eating anything other than raw meat from an animal or human. Maybe the experiments that Hyperion did on Slag had irreversibly altered them to the point that without constant bloodshed and murder, they would die. It was almost sad, in a way. They had once been people.

"Hey Tyreen." I heard Troy's voice from the entrance to the broadcasting room. "Mouthpiece is nearly ready for you." He was scratching his normal arm with his mechanical one, a habit that he had taken to more and more recently. He was dying, and we both knew it.

"Alright." I replied softly, slipping on my cloak and tying it shut. Troy noticed my somber expression.

"What's wrong?" He asked as if he didn't already know the answer. We could practically read each other's minds at times. It was part of our connection, I guess.

I shook my head and with a heavy sigh, I replied "Just thinking too much , like always." The red of his tattoos was starting to fade, a sign that I needed to use my powers on him. I held out my arm and felt the drain on my energy almost as soon as he grabbed hold. It was strange. As much as he physically couldn't live without me, I didn't know what I'd do without him. Probably go take a long walk in the desert. The feeling of lightheadedness told me that I needed to feed again. Troy breathed a relieved sigh as he let go, the red of his tattoos now shining in earnest.

"Thanks," He gave me a smile, one that had become commonplace after forming the cult. He knew that he was a burden on me. He knew that I shouldered that burden gladly.

I returned the gesture. "No problem." The on air light lit up, signaling that it was nearly time for my broadcast. The glow of his tattoos faded as the effects of my transfusion took hold. He was looking down at his arm, a look of disdain on his face.

"We'll fix you, I promise." I told him, a grim determination filling my voice. He just replied with that same smile. An almost fake smile. He knew it was a lie, and that it was only a matter of time before he died. He didn't care. We had each other, and that was enough for him. Enough for me. The second on air light came on signaling that it was time for me to give my speech.

I entered the broadcast booth, Mouthpiece moving to the side in what I assumed was reverence. He seemed to be taken more than the other bandits by the God-Queen image. I gripped the mic and took a deep breath. "What up, my bandit orphans? God-Queen Tyreen, comin' at you live from the HBC…"


	2. Chapter 2

So, turns out Tyreen is an unrepentant bitch with a God-complex. Who knew? I'll leave this up as a 'what could have been' story.


End file.
